


Ambedo

by MsBluebell



Series: Holiday Rumble [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Consequences of Yusaku Disappearing For Months, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Christmas, Fujiki Yuusaku Gets A Hug, Fujiki Yuusaku Needs A Hug, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Minor Ai | Ignis/Fujiki Yuusaku, Minor Fujiki Yuusaku/Revolver | Kougami Ryouken, Moving On, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Orphans, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, They're Flawed People But They Love Him, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Yusaku Has Friends That Love Him, Yusaku Protection Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBluebell/pseuds/MsBluebell
Summary: It's Christmas, but Yusaku has never been one to celebrate the holiday. Besides, he's busy anyway. To bad Ryouken isn't having that.(Or, it's post-canon and Ryouken isn't going to let Yusaku ever disappear on him again.)
Relationships: Ai | Ignis & Fujiki Yuusaku, Fujiki Yuusaku & Homura Takeru, Fujiki Yuusaku/Revolver | Kougami Ryouken
Series: Holiday Rumble [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163141
Comments: 20
Kudos: 47





	Ambedo

Forgetting it’s Christmas is easy for Yusaku, and something that’s happened every year since he was six years old.

Christmas isn’t a holiday for orphans, not really. Not Den City orphans, anyway, at least not for him. Not for his whole orphanage really. He remembers that the caretakers _tried_ to put up a tree and decorations, and they used the festive season to run a dozen or so charities to try and buy presents for the younger kids. But those presents were usually clothes and socks, and most of the money _actually_ just went towards the bills and upkeep. So there was never really much enthusiasm from anyone but the most optimistic of children, the ones that either dedicated their whole lives to trying to be upbeat, or the ones who were recently orphaned and holding on to optimism by a thread.

Yusaku _thinks_ maybe he tried, at first, during the first six years. It’s hard to remember _before_ , a natural consequence of both growing older _and_ of severe trauma. He was shy, he was told, not very good at making friends despite his optimism, so even after he doesn’t have a good read on who he used to be other than a child that at least _tried_ to be happy. Regardless, Christmas for him during the orphanage was a time of grudgingly opening up a package with a new used shirt and then moving on. If he was lucky then he was with a set of foster parents who _tried_ to make him feel welcome, because December was either the first or second month with him, and would try to celebrate with him, but that only ever happened once or twice, and both times usually were followed by subsequent abandonment. Others were during the latter stages of his fostering, when they had already given up and simply gave him something practical before moving on.

So he has no nostalgic basis for having paid attention to Christmas, and the holiday had become more background noise in his life after he moved into his shithole, gentrified, apartment. With little more than the lights down the streets and the sometimes overloud Christmas music in an adjacent apartment as a reminder. Otherwise, it was just a bunch of bright lights in the cold streets, themed music and outfits, overly false cheer from stores, and strange and sometimes irritating events in Vrains.

Excluding that one Christmas when Kusanagi came to him in a fit of abject despair before visiting Jin in the hospital, drunkenly handing him a gift, Yusaku has spent Christmas every year since he acquired his apartment passing the day unaware and uncaring of the holiday.

So he can be forgiven for forgetting it again, he thinks. It’s less justifiable than years past, because Takeru has brought it up a dozen and a half times over his daily phone calls, excitedly chattering and not-so-subtly trying to ask Yusaku to visit his hometown for the holiday and celebrate with him and his grandparents and Kiku. An invitation that Yusaku had refused on the excuse that he had very little money to spare for travel, particularly after his three month breakdown and subsequent disappearance trying desperately to find Ai and piece him back together. 

In a way he’s still trying to recover from that breakdown, both financially and physically. Three months of being labeled as officially a missing person, thank you Akira, and neglecting his own health wasn’t something that would just go away, and travel just wasn’t possible. And while Takeru was disappointed, he promised to visit sometime _after_ the holiday so Yusaku wouldn’t be alone. Something Yusaku had to assure him was fine, several times, because he didn’t celebrate Christmas anyway. And he’s fine, he was fine, he’s better now and not going to run off and disappear for another three months and make Takeru have a heart attack. 

Takeru wouldn’t leave him alone unless he swore of their friendship that he wasn’t going to disappear again and that he’d be here, in this shitty apartment, when the boy came for a visit at some unspecified time after Christmas. 

But other than Takeru, the only reason he’d remembered the holiday at all this year was because Zaizen and Shima both insisted on staying around him as his friends, and both tended to talk about it a lot. Usually discussing what they were going to do for the holiday this year, or what they were going to buy their friends or crushes or whatever. Or sometimes openly admiring the lights. 

And, fine, maybe he should have made more note when Kusanagi had taken to being much happier this year, decorating his food truck and humming along and generally being much more festive since this was going to be Jin’s first Christmas outside of the hospital. But in his tentative defense it wasn’t like he was exactly invited to their celebrations, because despite the partnership that Kusanagi and Yusaku once possessed and their mutual mission and maybe friendship, Yusaku will never forget he’s _not_ part of the Kusanagi family, and any hope otherwise was a fruitless endeavor. 

Besides, he’s busy monitoring Ai’s development. He’s collected all the pieces of his former partner and put him back together code by code, string by string. Ai is whole, for the most part, but in a delicate state and bereft of most of his memory. Yusaku isn’t sure if his partner will...will _ever_ regain the memories of their time together, or anything before and after. But it’s fine, Yusaku will...he’ll help him through it. He’ll do right by Ai this time. He’ll be kinder, and he won’t take Ai for granted and treat him as a hostage. This time Yusaku will do everything he can to take care of him and...and…

_“I loved you.”_

Yusaku’s fingers stop, his palms coming to rub his tired eyes. Green irises rest on his duel disk, where Ai was currently stationary and sleeping, letting Yusaku’s newest update run through his small, programmed, body. Just like his original form. He’ll sleep for at least two days while the program updates his body. He won’t be _as_ mobile as before, but he’ll be close enough. Soon he’ll be his old self, only free of memory.

It’s fine, that’s fine, it’s enough. Just as long as Ai is _alive_ then Yusaku is fine. He doesn’t expect Ai to fall in love with him all over again or anything, Yusaku doesn’t expect to _ever_ be loved by anyone again. Just as long as Ai is _alive._ He doesn’t even have to stick around, just as long as he’s alive.

Rubbing the exhaustion from his green eyes, Yusaku leaned back, watching his duel disk warrily before moving to stand up, moving to make more coffee for himself, shivering as his attention was brought from his workload to the freezing cold air around him. He huddled in his jacket, trying to keep what little heat his body produced within the jacket. 

Not for the first time, Yusaku lamented his body’s sensitivity to the cold. Just one of many little reminders of the Lost Incident how completely and utterly it had ruined his life. 

Yusaku settled on bitterly resenting his body’s general frailty as poured himself coffee from the pot, settling on adding nothing to it and savoring the heat it brought rather than the actual taste or caffeine. The heater had broken down during his three month absence, because of course it had. And he’d been busy prioritizing other bills and finances to worry about it once he got back. Not to mention reconnecting with the few people in his life that gave a shit about his sudden return after his disappearance. 

He’s still sure Ema and Ryouken are bugging the apartment. He doesn’t have proof, because he hasn’t given enough of a shit to check, but he’s fairly confident that if he checks the vents then he’ll find cameras there. He doesn’t mind, if they start bothering him then he’ll shut their surveillance down. Besides, there’s nothing for them to blackmail him with, or any privacy he cares for being violated. The both of them already knew very well why he disappeared. And he suspects if he _does_ shut down the cameras both of them will assume he’s having another breakdown and trying to disappear for months again. Both of them would probably either drop what they were doing and try to cut him off, or would send someone else to stop him. Despite Ryouken’s insistence that he knew Yusaku would come back to them safe and sound.

Ema, however, openly doesn’t trust him not to disappear and hurt himself. Again. Yusaku doesn’t even blame her. When he came back after that three months he was malnourished, more sleep deprived then he’d ever been, filthy with clothes he’d stolen from a second hand shop a few weeks before, and had gone without his medications the entirety of his disappearance. He was a mess with nothing but a duel disk with an amnesiac A.I. when he’d returned to them, and he’d had to be admitted to the hospital when he’d walked up to Cafe Nagi to proudly proclaim that he’d done it.

The sheer panic on his friend’s faces as they all rushed from whatever they were doing to see him still fills him with guilt even now. Takeru’s particularly emotional response, when he rode all night from his hometown and burst into the hospital room with enraged tears and no small amount of relief, ready to punch Yusaku in the face for disappearing, was a particular source of guilt.

Although even Takeru’s teary eyed rage hadn’t been as bad as Zaizen Aoi’s shaky smile and few but devastating tears. 

Yusaku curls in on himself at the thought, taking a sip of his watery but warm coffee. It doesn’t do much to warm him, but it does ease the twisting guilt in his stomach for just a moment. Zaizen had invited him to spend Christmas with her and Akira too, he vaguely recalls. An offer he’d rejected because it didn’t feel right to intrude on a family event when they aren’t even on a first name basis. Especially since he has no reverence for the holiday at all.

Falling down on his chair, Yusaku takes another warming sip of his coffee, eyes locked on Ai’s sleeping form. His toes curl, watching him like that, sleeping. It’s not like Ai to be quiet, yet he is now. He’s been quiet since Yusaku started piecing him back together. He doesn’t know if that’s something that will be fixed once he’s done, or if Ai’s death has changed him forever.

It doesn’t matter, he reminds himself firmly. He’s going to be better. A better friend, a better partner. A better everything to everyone. That’s why he doesn’t push Shima away anymore, or ignore his calls from the others, and keeps his phone charged. Because Takeru will never forgive him if he misses even one more call, he thinks. And he’d be right not to. 

Which is why Yusaku is going to be better, and not disappear for months without a word, and answer all the phone calls. Because he’s trying to be a better friend. He _has_ to be a better friend, a better _person_. He’s hitched his future on it, and he knows he hasn’t been the best. Otherwise-

A sharp knock sounds through the room, startling Yusaku and causing him to spill a bit of coffee on the floor. He scolds, glaring at the spot of wasted liquid, before standing up, abandoning his drink to approach the door. Quickly, he tries to guess who would be at the door, going through a process of elimination. One, it’s a holiday he knows all his friends and acquaintances have plans for, so it can’t be one of them. Two, government workers and SOLtech employees (is there a difference?) are off for the holiday, so it cannot be them. Three, there’s no one else who would personally seek out Yusaku on this day unless either danger had happened or they needed something.

Considering neither Kusanagi, Bessho, or Zaizen Akira had contacted him, he’s going to assume that nothing has gone horrifically wrong with the network. Or, at the very least, nothing they want to drag him into. They’ve...softened their willingness to let him take on dangerous situations alone after his disappearance. These days both Kusanagi and Akira seem to be keeping a heavily critical eye on the work he does within the network. 

So, he determines, it was someone looking for bill money. His landlord, perhaps? Yusaku hasn’t really spoken to his landlord since he returned to the apartment. In all honesty, he’s surprised he wasn’t kicked out, considering he wasn’t here to pay his rent for months. He left the money in his usual box this month, but maybe Mr. Sakegamura wasn’t satisfied with that and wanted his three months of back rent? 

But on Christmas?

Yusaku supposes the man is a big enough dick to pull that. 

The tired teen pulls open his door, ready to argue with his landlord that, no, he doesn’t owe three months back rent. But the words die on his lips when he sees who is actually standing at the door, “...Revolver?”

Standing there with a Christmas bag in one hand, the other hand resting on his hip, was Kogami Ryouken himself, wearing a designer jacket and displeased scold on his face. “Are you going to invite me in? Or leave me to your neighbor's snooping?”

Mrs. Sakegamura, Yusaku determines. She must have cornered him and tried to interrogate him. Maybe she’s watching the street now from behind the curtains of her window, waiting for the mysterious and obviously rich young stranger in designer clothes that came to see her poorest resident. It’s going to be a nightmare the next time he runs into her.

“It’s just as cold in here as it is out there, just so you know.” Yusaku tells him, pulling the door wide open and letting Ryouken inside.

Ryouken has never been inside of his apartment. Or, at the very least, has never been inside of it while Yusaku is home. He looks so out of place that it almost seems surreal. Because Kogami Ryouken wears clothes that cost as much as Yusaku’s rent, and he’s a rich thing standing in a barren shithole with cracks in the walls. It’s almost enough to give someone whiplash just looking at him and then the background he’s standing in. And he knows he doesn’t belong somewhere like this apartment too, because he gives a displeased click of his tongue as soon as he steps inside, “It's colder in here, actually. How you're not bedridden again is beyond me.”

Good to know some things never change, at least. It’s almost comforting, knowing that at least Ryouken isn’t treating him like he’s made of glass. Which he’d have a right to do after Yusaku’s major breakdown. Either way, Yusaku’s not going to complain, so all he does is shrug and comment idly, “I've lived in worse conditions. Can't afford to get the heat fixed.”

“You're acting like any of your cohorts wouldn't gladly drag you to live with them given the choice.” Ryouken scoffs, eyes narrowing at the broken room heater.

Ah, yes, because he has a right to intrude on his friends' lives. Like Kusanagi would _want_ to take on a financial burden like himself. Or Takeru’s grandparents would want to take in a perfect stranger. He’s sure his friends would hate him in a month if he actually moved in with them. Because he would absolutely be a burden. Between the endless nightmares, constant need to refill medications, terrible work schedule, and the space he’d take up. He’s not sure he could pay enough rent or contribute enough to the house to make up for his many, many, flaws as a housemate.

He gave an annoyed hum, frowning at Ryouken deeply, “Like I'd let them. I've put them through enough trouble as it is.”

Ryouken levels him with a cool glare, one that Yusaku recognizes well by this point. It’s the same glare he gives whenever he thinks Yusaku is being a naive fool. He’s gotten that glare pointed at him a lot back when they were at war with one another over the Ignis and their right to exist in peace.

Now? Now the only Ignis left is Ai. And Ai isn’t in a position to hurt anyone ever again. Or even function fully at the moment. In the end Ryouken sort of got what he wanted. Sort of. And, bitterly for Yusaku, Ai has sort of proved him right. Ai had gone out of his _way_ to make Ryouken think he and the other Knights of Hanoi had been right. All part of Ai’s oh-so-brilliant master plan to force Yusaku into a corner and leave him no choice but to kill him. Because after what Ai has done _no one else_ really wants him back. Not really. Even Kusanagi and Takeru are hesitant. And they...they’re the ones that _understand_ that Ai is a part of him. That killing Ai had felt like ripping out his own beating heart and taking slow bites from it with his bare teeth. It felt like someone had reached a hand into his head and grabbed onto his brain and _squeezed_ and _squeezed_ until all Yusaku could do was cry out in pain and anguish, pleading with Ai not to leave him behind. Screaming for help that never came.

“Are you just here to critique my life choices, or did you have business with me, Revolver?” Yusaku asks blandly, suddenly exhausted.

All Ryouken does is scoff, holding out his Christmas bag like he expects Yusaku to take it. “Go to the bathroom and put this on. We're going out.”

It took a moment to comprehend the sentence, mostly because it was the last thing Yusaku actually expected from the other boy. “Excuse me?”

The white haired boy scoffed again, unimpressed with Yusaku’s lack of comprehension. He shook the bag, like _that_ would somehow make Yusaku do what he wanted, “Did your ears stop working now? Go put this on. I'm taking you out.”

Yusaku frowned, taking the bag just because it was Ryouken asking, and he’s admittedly weak for Ryouken. “But ...why?”

Ryouken scoffed again in lew of an answer, a tick of annoyance leaving him, “If you think I'm here to sabotage your progress with the Dark Ignis, then don't bother. He's already more subdued then I could ever bother with.”

“If I thought you were here to do that, I would have slammed the door in your face and not bothered speaking.” Yusaku glared at him, words completely honest. He trusts Ryouken, more than nearly everyone else. But that doesn’t mean he's going to stand by while his savior is doing something wrong. Especially when Ryouken thinks he’s in the right.

“I meant why are you taking me out?” Yusaku corrects him, looking at the bag warrily, “Is there a problem you need to discuss with me in private or something?”

  
  


He’s fairly sure Akira would have called him, Christmas or not, if something world breaking was happening on the network. Unless Ryouken is going behind his back for this, which is the scenario that makes the most sense to Yusaku. The other boy has grown a lot in the last half a year, but Yusaku isn’t sure that he’s quite outgrown his willingness to be underhanded.

“And here I thought you and I were well past this.” Ryouken crosses his arms, a dissatisfied frown on his lips, “If you don't trust me after all this time, then you don't have to come.”

And that isn’t fair, because Ryouken knows very well Yusaku trusts him. He’s called Yusaku a naive fool more times than Yusaku cares to count. Even if the younger boy would argue that Ryouken was being far more naive than he was during those arguments. Because Ryouken can always be trusted to do what he thinks is best, but at the time when they were on different sides Ryouken defined what was “best” by the unscientific simulations of his madman father. And, frankly, Yusaku is more than a little relieved he’s grown far past that. “It's not that I don't trust you. I do. But you usually only seek me out if there's a problem or a threat of some sort.”

“There's no threat. Not unless you consider yourself a threat against your own health.” Ryouken digs, hitting a little too close to a very true and very much indefensible truth for Yusaku. Maybe if it was before his breakdown he could say that dig was uncalled for. Now? Now he can’t. So he can say nothing as Ryouken moves on, simply raising an eyebrow at him with an unimpressed stare, “Are you going to go put them on?”

“Something tells me you won't leave unless I do,” Is Yusaku’s resigned statement as he shuffles awkwardly towards his bathroom. He could probably fight more. He could probably even win the argument and send Ryouken storming off in a fury. But...he doesn’t want to. It’s so rare for Ryouken to come to him first. And, privately, Yusaku knows that he’ll always listen to what Ryouken has to say, even if he doesn’t agree with it. Because no matter whether or not Yusaku moves on in life and builds a future somewhere else, a part of his heart will always have a place for the one who gave him something to live for.

So he enters the bathroom and stares at the gift bag for maybe a little longer than necessary before carefully opening it, taking out the colorful tissue paper like it’s a holy relic before peering inside to see what Ryouken went through all the trouble to get him.

The answer? A really thick, handknitted, wool sweater with mittens, thick fuzzy boots, fuzzy socks, and jeans. 

Yusaku blinked at all the objects in the bag, eyes widening slightly as he lightly reached in to poke the soft material, not quite believing this was a real event that was really happening to him. The material is high quality and obviously expensive, Yusaku can absolutely tell even without the price tags and receipts. He can feel himself sweating a bit just holding the sweater in front of him, trying to calculate how much these few pieces of thick clothes compared to his rent.

Reluctantly, he started pulling everything on, shuddering from the cold as he strips down to his underwear. When he slips on the gifts, they feel warm and comfortable around his body. He stops, considering the fact he felt warm for the first time in...he doesn't really remember, before looking at himself in the mirror, barely recognizing himself in the clothes. He was always thin, he knows that. But without the naturally square build of his school uniform he looks even thinner, the result of his three months of neglect and homelessness highlighted by how fluffy and full the sweater looked in comparison, sinking him in it’s wool.

At least it looks nice, he thinks as he steps out the bathroom. 

“I'll pay you back later.” He immediately states as soon as his eyes land on Ryouken, still standing in the center of his apartment with his arms crossed disdainfully.

“It's Christmas, that's against the point.” Ryouken only stared at him intently with an unreadable expression, before waving for Yusaku to follow him, “Come on, my car is outside.”

Vowing to himself that he will pay Ryouken back whether he likes it or not, Yusaku follows the older boy up the stairs and out into the hallway of his shithole apartment complex, glancing towards the windows when he gets outside, where the landlady was spying still. He doesn't celebrate Christmas, he stubbornly tells himself, so he doesn't need to follow the rules of Christmas gift giving. “Where are we going?”

Ryouken doesn’t seem to be in a generous mood, because all he does is open the door to his expensive looking car and give a short, “Out.”

The young boy sighed as he got in the car. Some things never change, he supposes. And despite their much friendlier relationship and the lack of a war of ideologies standing in their way, the boy is still as short and commanding as only someone in a leadership position from a young age could be. “Helpful.”

Ryouken firmly set on ignoring him. Getting in on the other side of the car and starting it up without another word, stirring the wheel and pulling out into the road, away from the peering eyes of the landlady before he bothered speaking again, “I'm not taking you anywhere dangerous. And I'm sure if I did Bessho would hunt me down.”

“I didn't think you were taking me anywhere dangerous.” Yusaku sighed, wary of the shortness and Ryouken’s love of vagueness. Yusaku is patient, and knows Ryouken well enough that if he _stays_ patient and slowly peels back the layers of the older boy’s defenses he can understand what he’s thinking, no matter how thick the walls he used to protect his mind. But Yusaku was _exhausted_ after everything. And more than a tad annoyed that Ryouken seems to think Yusaku is suspicious of him at all, as if he hadn’t made it clear he knows Ryouken will always do whatever he thinks is best, “I'm just confused. You're not acting as you usually would with me.”

Ryouken’s eyes never left the road, never even one glancing over to the side to catch sight of the sprawling Christmas lights and decorations that littered the Den City streets like a festive nightmare. Or the Vrains event. Instead he gave a simple. “The war is over, Playmaker.”

Yusaku nodded in agreement, stating simply. “Right, so you shouldn't really have reason to bother yourself with me. The fact that you are means something must have come up.”

All Ryouken did in response to that logical reasoning was raise a brow at Yusaku like he couldn’t believe something so foolish would ever leave a supposed genius’ mouth, “You weren't complaining when I came to visit you in the hospital.”

“Everyone came to visit me at the hospital.” Yusaku stated flatly. Even Aso and Taki had risked coming to the hospital to catch a glimpse of him, much to Yusaku’s annoyance and slight fury. Because while he’s... _fine_ with them going free and redeeming themselves, so long as they never hurt another child again, that didn’t mean he ever wanted to see the faces of the people who ruined his life and body again. 

“Yes, they did.” Ryouken answered coolly, “And after the war was over and there was no need to make sure their key player was alive. Now stop complaining, you're the one that wanted a future when all was said and done.”

Yusaku startled, flinching a bit. He looked down at his lap, not really, or maybe not letting, himself understand, “But...I figured I'd be mostly on my own building that future. Everyone has their own lives, and I don't need to bother them with plans I don't yet have the resources to pursue.”

The older boy scoffed, jerking the car and pulling up to a building and into its parking lot, “Rather selfish of you to become such a big part of their lives and relentlessly preach your philosophy, only to bail when people actually start caring about you.”

It was a cold, sharp, almost cruel criticism against his character. But Yusaku only blinked, well aware of his own flaws and willing to own up to them, “Not really used to being cared about, so I can't say I really know how to appropriately respond when people do.”

The white haired man scoffed again, opening the door and getting out, arriving at the other side of the car and opening Yusaku's door as well, “Well, it may be best if you start learning, because the Zaizen siblings might deploy an army if you disappear again.”

“Maybe.” Yusaku acknowledged as he stepped out of the car, the cold hitting his cheeks and making his breath puff out in a small fog of white. “I'll have to make a note of that if I need to go somewhere again.”

Slamming the door closed, Ryouken turns on his heel and leads Yusaku towards a gigantic and, frankly, expensive looking restaurant that towers over every nearby building. A string of lights fell like a tent over their bricked front of house, a Christmas tree set in the center of their gigantic fountain. Violin music leaked from within the building, playing some sort of Christmas tune that, if he strained his ears enough, Yusaku could vaguely recognize from when he was made to attend ballet. It was clearly much more expensive than Yusaku could even afford to buy a drink from, but Ryouken didn’t stop strolling purposely forward. “If you need to go somewhere again you better, along with an indication of when you'll be back. Spectre had an honest bet we would never see you again.”

Pausing in his steps as he takes in the fancy restaurant, all Yusaku can do is stare a bit, eyes a little wide, “...I can't go in there. Everything on the menu must cost at least as much as my rent.”

“I have a reservation.” Ryouken tells him shortly, waving off Yusaku’s concern. “Come on.”

Reluctantly following after Ryouken, Yusaku placed his hands in his pockets just to avoid touching anything. A decision that turns out to be a good idea when Ryouken pulls open the glass doors to let Yusaku inside, the blast of warm air hitting his face as a fire roars in the fireplace. There’s expensive looking paintings and vases everywhere. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, lighting a golden halo around all the tables, the light from them glinting off of wine glasses and silver utensils. There's a live band playing Christmas music, the source of the violin, and the whole restaurant is decorated with vaguely Christmas looking flowers and wreaths. 

Ryouken walks up to a host without even pausing, holding up two fingers, “Kogami for two.”

The host nods without hesitation, picking out two menus and leading him and Ryouken up a few steps of stairs, leading them across the restaurant and passing two more live bands and fireplaces to what looked like a private table next to the window. The view of the city and it's Christmas lights through that window alone could have been something they charged for, because you could see absolutely _everything_ , and from here it did actually look amazing.

Also, the room was apparently spinning, so Yusaku really was seeing everything.

“Tell the server no wine. We're underage.” Ryouken stated shortly, pulling out a chair and looking at Yusaku expectantly. It took the younger boy a moment to realize Ryouken actually expected him to sit in that elaborate chair. He raised a brow at the older boy, but it wasn’t any different from his attitude so far, so he doesn’t argue and simply sits, allowing Ryouken to push his chair forward before the older boy took his own seat.

“Order whatever you want.” Ryouken stated as he opened his own menu, looking over the options. “If you're not sure what you want then I'll order something for you.”

Not recognizing any of the names on the menu and really knowing what to order, Yusaku tries to consult the menu princes, balking when he sees the menu doesn't _have_ any prices shown. That...wasn’t a reassuring sign. “...Just...something cheap, I guess."

“You're not paying for it.” Was Ryouken’s unimpressed response. He didn’t even bother looking up from the menu.

“You're not going to let me not order anything other than water, are you?” Yusaku determines, sighing a bit.

“You're malnourished.” Came the still unimpressed answer.

Realizing that Ryouken isn't going to budge, Yusaku sighed, giving up on the idea of figuring out what to order, instead just settling on staying in control of at least his general tastes “...Something hearty and filling, then. But that’s all.”

Ryouken hums in a way that says he does not give a shit about anything Yusaku just said other than his preference for taste. And as soon as he settles on a general idea of what Yusaku would want he flags down the server when they come over and orders what sounds like half a dozen things to eat and a dessert before sending her off.

“You can keep the leftovers.” Ryouken responds before Yusaku can even open his mouth, leaning back against his seat and smirking smugly. It’s the most pleased he’s seen Ryouken all night, and it immediately annoys him.

“I can’t, I don’t have a fridge.” The bluenette tries to calculate how much Ryouken just spent on food, thoughts jumping from one absurd possibility to another. Ah, to be privileged enough to waste _that_ much money on overpriced food. It makes Yusaku’s budget of ramen and Kusanagi’s pity hotdogs seem even cheaper than it already felt. “Or maybe I can? My apartment is probably cold enough to store them on the table”

He meant it sarcastically, but the statement makes Ryouken’s smug smile die, replaced by a displeased and frustrated frown. “We'll figure it out."

Then Ryouken crossed his arms over the table, blue eyes burning into Yusaku’s green, “We need to catch you back up to at least your previous weight.”

Yusaku shrugged, not seeing the big deal, it’s not like he weighed much before either. “I was underweight to begin with, so it's not like I'd go up by much.”

Ryouken's face twisted at that.

“What did you order us anyway?” Yusaku quickly changed the subject as he saw Ryouken open his mouth, hoping to avoid whatever reprimand he was going to get. He’s heard it enough from both Kusanagi _and_ Akira since he’s come back. And even _Jin_ has been clicking his tongue at his lack of proper diet, which was a new low even for Yusaku. “There's no way I can eat all that in one sitting.”

“Everything.” Ryouken stated simply and coolly, leaning against his fist like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Yusaku paused, blinking, “Come again?”

“Everything hearty on the menu. There's not as much as you think. And I ordered for myself too.” Then Ryouken clicked his tongue, glaring at Yusaku, “You're not going to the hospital for malnourishment again.”

Staring blankly at Ryouken for a moment, not really comprehending this Yusaku just barely prevented himself from asking Ryouken why he even cares. “There's no way I'm gonna be able to eat all this, let alone store it.”

“You just said your apartment was as cold as a refrigerator.” Ryouken shot back sharply.

“That was before you ordered everything off the menu.” Yusaku tapped his finger against the table, staring blankly at the other boy, trying to convey just how senseless his actions had been.

“Live with the consequences of running off on your own.” Ryouken commanded bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You're...more than a little bossy, you know that?” It was an obvious understatement, but Yusaku had nothing else to say on the matter. He crossed his arms, refusing to _sulk_ , but it seems he’s finally been backed into a corner where he could not defeat Ryouken. Or, well, he could. He could walk out of this restaurant and leave the bastard here. But Yusaku knew he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. And besides, it was freezing outside.

But Ryouken wasn’t in the mood to play around. He glared fiercely at Yusaku, a cutting expression that would have struck fear into the heart if Yusaku wasn’t so confident that Ryouken would never raise a hand to him. “The first time I saw you after three months, you were in the hospital for an additional two months.”

It seemed like Ryouken was going to go on, maybe even devolve into an angry speech the likes of which Yusaku wouldn’t have seen since before Lightning, back when Ryouken was still slightly hoping his preaching and anti-Ignis ideology would work if only he could just drill it into Yusaku’s head what sense his logic absolutely made, especially since his father is obviously never wrong, ever. But he was thankfully cut off by the server, who wheeled a whole _cart_ of food to their table. A cart with an intimidating amount of trays. Most thankfully already in to-go plates because this server was obviously a sensible girl. Unlike her customer.

“Eat.” Ryouken demands, picking up a bowl of creamy looking soup and sliding it across the table. He doest touch his own food yet, staring at Yusaku expectantly.

A little overwhelmed by all the food in front of him, growling stomach betraying him, he hesitantly picks up his soup and starts to eat, “I'll admit I was probably more reckless than I should have been when I...left...but I had to work fast.”

But Ryouken isn’t having this argument. He stabs his own food viciously, glaring at him, “Homura and Kusanagi thought Ai had managed to kill you in a murder suicide. Did they ever tell you that? Did they tell you Kusanagi was saving money for your funeral.”

_That_ fact hit him like a truck. He paused, guilt spreading through him like ice freezing through his blood, “...No, they didn't.”

“Zaizen Aoi cried when they told her. She was going to fund it.” Ryouken stated viciously, brutally, with no room for mercy. “The only reason you _didn't_ have a funeral was because Zaizen Akira and I managed to convince them to wait a year for you to possibly come back.”

The white haired boy stabs his food again, apparently angry by the very memory of whatever that conversation had been. He clicks his tongue again, settling on just glaring at Yusaku again, “They're trying to give you space, because you disappeared because of your _mental breakdown_ and they blame themselves for it, but _I'm_ not going to. You need to _eat_ , you need to take care of yourself, and you _need_ to start on your medications again.”

He’s right. Of course he’s right. It’s hard to argue with anything the older boy is saying. Yusaku does need to eat, and he can’t even really physically function without pain medications and antidepressants. But Roboppy had been programmed to refill his prescriptions for him, and had set reminders to take them. And...he just...he hadn’t wanted to deal with that himself yet, because it would feel so final. He knows he has to accept Roboppy is gone, that unlike Ai _Roboppy_ can’t _ever_ come back and he’s _gone._ But Yusaku hadn’t wanted to deal with that on top of his grief over losing the only person to ever tell him he loved him.

So, because he has nothing to say, he _says_ nothing.

Ryouken takes this as the defeat it absolutely is, pointing his fork at Yusaku and giving a simple but unyielding command, “You're coming back with me to my apartment tonight. I'm not accepting no as an answer.”

Brows furrowing, Yusaku felt an overwhelming sort of guilt and shock at the revelation that his friends honestly thought he was dead. It was a reasonable conclusion, and Yusaku isn’t sure why _he_ hadn’t realized...but then again he hadn’t been in his right mind. He’d wasn’t thinking about his friends or consequences or food or _anything_ other than finding Ai after his breakdown. And that Ryouken is going out of his way to do all this for him and be a hardass about it…

Unable to really look Ryouken in the eye, Yusaku instead looks down at his plate, slowly going actually eating the food and attempting to finish the bowl. His stomach growls, registering that it’s finally allowed real food and allowing him to fit much more then he’d normally be able to devour. It didn’t help that the food actually tasted good, better than anything he'd had before, but he didn’t have the heart to enjoy it after the revelations Ryouken just brutally made him face. “...Why are you going out of your way to do this for me?”

Not for the first time tonight, Ryouken looks at him like he doesn’t quite believe Yusaku can say something so stupid. “...Do I have to say it? I thought you knew."

“Apologies for not being a mind reader, Revolver.” Yusaku is just as frustrated, burdened by his own guilt and confusion, and he just wants Ryouken to stop playing this _game_ for a moment. “You're not exactly always forth-coming with your thoughts and intentions.”

Feeling the familiar surge of bitterness swell within him as the words _'I regret saving you'_ echo in his mind, Yusaku shoves another bite of food in his mouth, angrily chewing before he bothers to speak again, “I trust you, but that doesn't mean I actually know you and your thought process.”

His companion frowns deeply, a sour note to his handsome features. Ryouken looks inhumanly frustrated right now, contrasting starkly with the cheery atmosphere around them. The tanned man throws down his fork, only now finally giving his reason for all of this, “Because despite everything, I _care_ about you.”

Yusaku freezes.

The grip on his spoon becomes white knuckled as the words ' _I care about you_ ' echo in his head over and over, all but replacing 'I regret saving you’ as the mantra in his mind. It’s almost surreal, and the words seem dreamlike for a moment. Because he never...he never...no one since Ai has ever…

Tears springing to his eyes against his will, because his heart is still more then a little weak, and, feeling really mortified and embarrassed by it, he drops his spoon with a loud clang, rushing to pick up his napkin and wipe his eyes, praying in vain that Ryouken didn't notice. “...oh…”

Ryouken’s own grip is white knuckled on his fork. The older boy is looking away, pretending he doesn't see Yusaku’s unwanted show of vulnerability. “I thought you realized...after I died fighting Lightning.”

Swallowing, slowly pulling himself together, Yusaku shook his head, “I... didn't want to make any assumptions, or try to read to deeply into anything so I-”

Cutting himself off from saying ' _So I didn't get my hopes up_ ', refusing to finish that sentence and say something that will _really_ make them both guilty and upset, Yusaku clamps his mouth firmly shut, letting Ryouken take whatever he wants from the conversation.

“I suppose I was rather vague about it.” Ryouken commented, looking away.

“You're vague about a lot of things.” Yusaku comments, attempting an amused chuckle that comes out more watery than he cares for. This is absolutely mortifying.

But Ryouken doesn’t seem to care how mortifying the experience should be. He just folds his hand over the table, blue eyes gleaming for a moment as he looks back at Yusaku and states with intense certainty, “I love you.”

Green eyes widen behind his napkin, tears frustratingly filling his eyes again as his shoulder begins to tremble just the slightest bit, “...You...can't mean that.”

“I don't waste time on such petty lies.” Ryouken states, interlocking his fingers together. Blue eyes _burning_ into Yusaku. “This is a date. I'm being self-indulgent to myself for Christmas.”

Shoulders trembling still, all Yusaku can get out is a small, “ ...Oh.”

“Yes.” Ryouken nods, face still cool.

Desperately trying to process this revelation and regain control of his burdensome emotions, Yusaku tries to compose himself and answer Ryouken simply and truthfully, “I... I'm afraid I don't know what the appropriate response is to this.”

“You don't need to respond, you don't need to do anything, nor are you required to.” Ryouken states it like he states scientific facts. “I'm not asking you to, especially not so soon after your emotional breakdown. All I'm asking is that you indulge me just for tonight. Eat this food, accept my Christmas gifts, come home with me and spend the night sleeping in an apartment I _know_ is safe and warm that won’t get broken into. I've even prepared the guest room for you.”

“This...is a lot.” Yusaku stated, wiping his eyes, all but giving up on hiding how red they are now. Making an attempt to go back to his food, he’s still not as composed as he would like, “No one...has ever done this much for me before.”

Unless you count Ai and his literal self-sacrifice. But Yusaku doesn’t like to think about Ai’s idea of what it means to show love and devotion for another person.

“If you call Bessho Ema or Akira right now, they will absolutely drive all the way here, pick you up, and move you into their homes tonight.” Ryouken states, obviously disagreeing with the idea behind Yusaku’s words if not actuality. He taps his finger, blue eyes still drilling into the younger boy. “Like it or not, used to it or not, people care about you now, Fujiki. You have to get used to it. You don't have to love anyone, you don't even have to accept their help, but we all want you in our lives. _Preferably safe and sane_.”

Tears stinging his eyes for the third time that night, because Ryouken is brutal tonight, Yusaku tries to wipe them away and lets out a shuddering breath, “...People don't normally want me around. I'm flawed, damaged, and broken in a lot of ways. I don't like feeling like a burden, because that's what I was most of my life.”

Ryouken levels that same cool expression at him, unmoved.

"But…” Yusaku hesitates, “If people do care about me...and do want me around...I'll try to move past thinking like that. It might take me awhile, and I might not always get it right, but...I'll do my best to try.”

For the first time that night Ryouken’s expression softens. It’s an expression more rare and precious than uncut diamonds. And when Ryouken reaches out his hand to cover Yusaku’s, the pale boy almost thinks this is all some elaborate dream. “Come home with me.”

  
  


Looking up at Ryouken, Yusaku debated with himself for a long time. Taking a deep breath, and then another, and another, he makes the decision to steel himself and move forward, for real this time. “Okay.”

Wrapping his fingers around Yusaku's, Ryouken nods, the bright light from the fireplace casting a shadow across his face as he stands up. “...I'll get the waitress to pack this up. You stay here and I'll get the car.”

And then he leaves to do just that, having the waitress come and pack up all the rest of the food into giant paper bags, another waiter helping him carry them to the car. Ryouken leads Yusaku out by the arm this time, his grip tight and burning like a band around the smaller boy’s upper arm. They walk in silence until they reach the car, packing away the food into the truck before Ryouken opens the door for Yusaku, who slips inside and spends the ride leaning his head against the window and watching the Christmas lights go by.

Apparently, when Ryouken wants to be alone and have a bit of privacy, or when he is just plain sick of living on a boat circling the harbor everyday, he has an apartment in the upper end of town just to himself. But calling Ryouken’s new apartment just an “apartment” is a bit inaccurate. More to the point, the place is actually an entire floor suite, probably already furnished when he bought it. A conclusion Yusaku comes to because there _is_ actual furniture and none of it is black or white. Lacking the sterile feel of his abandoned manor on Stardust Road.

Beyond whatever was here when he bought the place, Ryouken hadn’t bothered with personalization. Not even decorations. There's a fireplace with a fake fire that makes real heat, and there's a wall sized TV with a Christmas tree on the screen, and that’s it as far as the holiday spirit goes. Which, alright, is still more effort than Yusaku cared to try.

“This is where I've been living for the past month or two.” Ryouken explained, holding the door wide open for Yusaku to enter. “If you need something feel free to stop by, you're on the guest list.”

Blinking, Yusaku walked into the center of the living room, taking in the large space idly, “That’s kind of you. What happened to your boat, and the house on Stardust Road?”

Shutting the door behind him, Ryouken sighs and moves to drop the leftovers on the floor, a Maidbot rushing by to put them away as he walks over and drops on a couch. “They're both still there, but I don't live on them. I don't want to. I work on the boat. It's the Knight's headquarters, and the...others...live there, but I don't want to. I had enough of the boat when we were on the run.”

Throwing his arms over the back of the couch and letting his head lull back, Ryouken slips his eyes closed, humming idly, “One good thing about Zaizen officially clearing our records? I don't have to share a bathroom with four other grown adults”

Yusaku nods, tentatively sitting down on the couch next to Ryouken, letting himself sink into the scratchy and not at all comfortable material. Because apparently rich people hate comfort. “Fair enough.”

Looking around the room, the younger boy opens his mouth to ask...anything, but finds that nothing will leave his lips. Yusaku scolds himself for feeling shy now of all times, because he’s had more than enough time to regain control of his emotions. Another, logical part of him pipes up and says that it's only natural to feel shy after getting confessed to, especially the way Ryouken had decided to go about it, and sitting _next_ to a person who has feelings for you is something that would naturally lead to some level of shyness. Ai’s confession had shattered him, after all. And even if Ai hadn’t died in his arms Yusaku had never given himself time to think of what he’d do with that confession. And now here he was, with another confession made to him from one of the most important people in his world.

“Well, I'm glad you're in a place you're comfortable in, at least.” Yusaku manages when he can speak words again.

“I just brought the first already furnished place I could find.” Ryouken waves dismissively. “It used to be owned by a surgeon, I think.”

“At least you have space to move around.” Yusaku hums, gazing at the Christmas tree on the screen, not really knowing how to move this conversation forward and feeling a little bit like he's being a bad guest. Not a new feeling by any means.

Luckily, Ryouken decides on his own how to move this conversation forward, “The only room I've touched is yours.”

Yusaku jerks, surprised, frowning at his host deeply, “That's...a lot of work put into one room. I thought you said it was a guest room?”

Unashamed, Ryouken shrugs, “Would you have come as easily if I said it was yours?”

Point. 

“No, I wouldn't have.” Yusaku admits easily, looking back towards the Christmas tree on the screen and simply accepting the gesture. Because at this point he’s not allowed to be surprised by Ryouken’s odd ideas of affectionate displays. “Thanks. You didn't have to do all this, but... just…thank you.”

Ryouken merely shrugs, rolling his shoulder, “I figured you'd be kicked out of your apartment before you came back. I didn't expect that you'd be able to get it back. Your landlord either really likes you, or couldn't get anyone else to take it.”

“It was the latter.” Yusaku answers flatly, “I'm just as surprised as you were I wasn't kicked out.”

“So am I.” Ryouken’s voice is just as flat, “Considering you weren't there to pay rent for over three months.”

Threading his fingers together and placing them in his lap, Yusaku ignores the dig. “Exactly. What's even more surprising is that all my stuff was still there.”

“You can thank Zaizen Akira for that. I found out only after you returned he bribed your landlord.” Ryouken states bluntly, peering open his eyes to look back at Yusaku. “I'm sure if he'd actually seen the inside of your apartment he would have just taken your stuff and not bothered. I certainly didn't.”

_That_ filled him with yet another swell of guilt. Seems he has a lot more to thank the others for then he’s assumed. It’s humbling to hear, especially after he’s been such a shit friend. “Looks like a I need to thank a lot of people for a lot of things."

“Most of them abandoned you to deal with your seemingly homicidal A.I. all alone.” Ryouken stated disdainfully. Bitterly. “They're just making up for what they _should_ have done.”

You weren’t there either, Yusaku thinks. But he doesn’t say it, merely watching Ryouken, whose face twists with anger and frustration as he crosses his ankles and speaks, “They had a whole group therapy about it. Some sort of grief counseling when they thought you were really dead. I didn't attend, but I did bug it.”

A new sort of shame eats at Yusaku’s stomach.

He really is a shit friend, isn’t he? He’s always been a shit person in general, but knowing that he so deeply hurt people he actually cared about when he wanted to be better is just a sour and painful reality. He knows running off like that had been selfish, but it had seemed so...right...at the time. Like the only right thing. His mind was too frantic and focused on _AiAiAiThinkofthreethingsandyoucanhavehimback_ to even really register where he was or what he was doing most of the time.

But Ryouken must guess what he’s thinking, because all he does is look at Yusaku and speak calmly. “You...did a lot for them.”

But that isn’t enough to make the gnawing guilt go away. And all he can do is stare at his lap while drinking in shame, wondering what he could possibly do to make up for what happened, for worrying so many people so badly. 

“...I'm sorry.” Ryouken’s voice has softened when he speaks, and a hand has reached out to touch Yusaku’s upper back, long tanned fingers circling around the sweater and tugging it, Yusaku’s body falling into the taller boy’s side as an arm snakes around him, pulling him into a hug. “I'm sorry I wasn't there.”

To fight Ai. Ryouken is sorry he wasn’t there during the final showdown with Ai, when Yusaku finally marched forward to stop the madness and figure out why his partner was _doing_ this. Ryouken regrets not being there, because Yusaku disappeared. Because what happened in that room broke Yusaku in a way that even the Hanoi Project never quite managed. It made him lose hope, it made him lose his mind, it made him a crawling and inconsolable wreck of a man without reason that just blindly chased some made idea that if he could just do this one thing, if he could just bring Ai back, then all the pain would just _go away._ Ryouken, and the others too, they all thought that if only they were just there they could have consoled him through the worst of it.

Maybe they could have, he mused. Or maybe not. Either way, he’s at least glad they hadn’t seen him like that. He’s glad they hadn’t witnessed _the confession._ “You...don't need to apologize. In the end...it was probably better no one saw what actually happened.”

He doesn’t want to say what happened, he doesn’t want to explain just how terrible and soul destroying it had been. Killing Ai had felt like reaching into his own brain with translucent hands and _squeezing_ until there was nothing left but numbing and endless pain. And, what’s more, he just _couldn’t_ talk about it. Especially when Takeru and Aoi still _hated_ Ai for what he did, they would probably only hate him more if Yusaku explained. They’re barely tolerating Ai now, as harmless as he is. “Ai told me everything. About why he did what he did, and I couldn't handle it.”

“Regardless, you went there to kill a piece of yourself. No matter how it ended, we should have known...Spectre and Homura even said…” Ryouken’s arm squeezes tighter around him, and Yusaku feels the second arm sneaking around his shoulder as he’s squeezed even closer. Yusaku allows it. Because it’s Ryouken. And because he wants comfort. And because he’s so affection starved that this honestly is more precious to him then any other gift Ryouken could give him. 

“You're so strong.” Ryouken whispers to him, holding him. “I suppose the rest of us just kept expecting you to _be_ strong no matter what. I'm sorry.”

Yusaku isn’t ashamed of burying his face into Ryouken's shoulder, trying to let the material of his shirt absorb the building tears before they can shed. “It wasn't just that I killed a piece of myself…”

I was forced to kill the first person to tell me they loved me, he wants to say, and they expected me to be okay with that.

Arms coming up to grip the back of Ryouken's jacket, slowly letting himself give into the feelings he'd been burying for so long, Yusaku lets himself be weak for just a moment. “Ai said he loved me, but he made me kill him.”

If Ryouken was surprised by such a revelation then he didn’t show it, nor did he react. He just put his hand on top of Yusaku’s head and kept it there. “I'm sorry. You shouldn't...you shouldn't have had to do that.”

No, he shouldn’t have. Ai should have found a different way, he thinks resentfully. _He_ should have found a different way. Yusaku should have thought of something. Anything should have happened except what did. But it’s too late for that. You can’t make pain go away by clicking your tongue and saying what a shame it is that something bad happened and that it shouldn’t have ever happened. Ai... _Ai_...

Resting his chin in Yusaku's hair, Ryouken speaks again, voice softer than Yusaku has ever heard it. “I don't...I don't know why he did it, or what happened...and I won't ask you. But I'm here now. And the Zaizens, and the Kusanagis, and Homura, and Bessho.”

Yes...yes they are here. And it’s still a strange and mystifying reality. He’s still not used to being cared about. And after the pain that was finding Ryouken again, and then the fight with Kusanagi, and then Ai...he’s almost afraid by the power these people have over him. Because they’re going to hurt him. They’ve all done something to hurt him already. And he’s so frightened by the pain they can put him through that it’s almost paralyzing. 

But it’s hard to think like that when Ryouken cards his tanned fingers through Yusaku’s hair, nails scratching at the scalp in a way that makes his eyes feel heavy. “I'm here, so...you don't have to be strong right now. It's okay, you're safe here.”

And that’s all Yusaku needs to let the tears go again, burying his face in Ryouken’s side, crying like the child he supposes he never really stopped being. The one that was scared of rooms with white walls, and electricity, and being hungry, and being abandoned. He only lets out a single sob, choking on it, and the rest of the tears run silent. Because that one cry is all it took to zap Yusaku of all the energy his body just isn’t able to produce anymore. And Ryouken just holds him, letting him work out the pain, petting his hair and not making a move to speak the whole time. Because he’s good at comforting words, and he can do more by being silent and being _here_ then anything else.

Yusaku doesn’t know how long he spent crying, the tears slowly subsiding as he just rests against Ryouken's chest, comfortable and at peace somehow, in a way he hadn't been since he’d finally gotten closure over the Lost Incident.

“I'm sorry.” Ryouken finally speaks. “I meant...for you to have a good Christmas. I wanted you to after...everything.”

Green eyes peer upward, red and raw as they look upon his childhood savior. “Believe it or not, this is a good Christmas for me. The best one in years. I'm just...a mess.”

“After the way this year went...that's understandable. It's been...a bad year.” Ryouken looks a bit haunted as he says this. And Yusaku really doesn’t blame him. Because everything...just...everything.

Ryouken shakes his head, taking a shuddering breath before exhaling slowly, his hand reaching up to brush away a stray lock of Yusaku’s hair behind his ear. “Next year...we'll work on next year.”

Shivering a little at the touch, not feeling inclined to pull away at all. “Yeah... next year.”

“...I want to be better than I was this year, Yusaku.” The older boy looks at him, eyes burning with intensity. He bites his lip, briefly. And then his features set with an inflamed determination, “And I want you to...have better.”

A silence falls over them, because a lump has formed in Yusaku’s throat, and Ryouken is staring at him like he could find purpose just by meeting Yusaku’s eyes.

Finally, he speaks, even and resolved. “Merry Christmas, Yusaku.”

“...Merry Christmas, Ryouken.” Yusaku licks his lips, “And... Thank you.

Ryouken closes his eyes, because there's a million things he probably wants to say, but is forced to settle for the simplest, “It's the least of what you deserve”.

Yusak, heart feeling light and full for the first time in what felt like decades, doesn’t feel any urge to try and rebuke that statement, “Mmm.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!
> 
> Thanks to Katias for helping me write this.
> 
> Update: Writing this a 4AM was a mistake.


End file.
